How to Tell You Love Him.

CHAPTER THREE

 We're released from the hospital two days later. After our condition was assessed as safe, Finnick is not released. The capital took Annie after I blew out the forcefield, thinking she had something to do with the rebel plan. Finnick can't deal with it, and I don't blame him. I don't know what I would be like if Peeta had been taken, and I knew he was being tortured at this very moment.

I'm given quarters with my mother and Prim. Peeta's quarters are right next to ours, but he bunks alone. Gale is across the hall with the rest of the Hawthorne family. Gale and I eat almost every meal together. Peeta tags along when I can convince him to eat. It wasn't until a week into this arrangement that I realized I hadn't been paying enough attention to Peeta.

It's seven in the morning, bright and early. I walk over to the door marked P. Mellark, and knock lightly. It takes a moment, but Peeta answers. His hair is ruffled from sleep, the curls pulled in every which direction. He's still wearing his sleep pants and shirt, and I assume it took him a minute because he needed to put on his prosthetic.

"Good morning," he says. He gives me a shy smile.

"Good morning," I reply, "Can I come in?" He moves aside, leaving me space to make my way into the room. I take in the room around me. There's a small sitting room and kitchen just like ours, except there's only one bedroom in this one. Little things of Peeta are scattered everywhere. His sketchbook and charcoal sits on a lamp stand next to his couch. There's ingredients all over the counters. Maybe he wasn't in bed, maybe he was making breakfast.

"Did you need anything?" His question pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Not really, I just wanted to see if you wanted to spend some time together," I blush and look away, feeling very embarrassed, "I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Is Gale busy?" That stings. Assuming he could only come up on my mind because Gale was busy today. Then again, what else would he think?

"I don't know," I say, "I didn't ask." I look him hard in the eyes. His eyes have always been something I loved. The blueness of them. How deep they show emotions.

"Okay, sure." He gives me a genuine smile this time.

"Okay," I smile right back, "were you making breakfast?"

"Yeah, I was. Would you like some?" I nod and move to sit in a chair.

I watch him make amazing rolls, eggs, and meat for us to eat. It tastes even better than it smells. We spent the rest of the morning together. He shows me his sketches, we talk about life here. I realize in that moment, how much I have missed his presence. The calm of him has always been something I needed.

Every morning after that, I go to his room. He makes us breakfast, and we talk. This routine eventually carries on to lunch and dinner. Except he doesn't cook, we go to the dining hall together, we talk there. We eat and visit with Haymitch, Prim, my mother, and Gale.

Prim and my mother have been busy recently. They are learning from the healers here in district thirteen. They seem to be enjoying themselves. I miss their presence throughout the day, but I see them in the evenings. They eat dinner with us most nights unless something big happens down in the medical wing.

But one night, after dinner, a man has a seizure in his quarters. My mother and Prim get called back to the medical wing to learn more about what has happened. I sit in our quarters alone for a long time. Trying to let sleep envelope me, but it won't. When I know it is going to be a bad night, I force myself to move. First my arms, then legs, and end up at the door with P. Mellark written on it once again. I knock, not knowing whether he is asleep or awake.

He opens the door after a moment, "Katniss?" he asks.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" I ask, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. He opens the door wider for me, not asking any questions. Peeta leads me into the bedroom, turning off the light in his sitting room as we go. I realize he hasn't tried to sleep tonight either. He slides between his covers and motions for me to join him. I do, but this time I face away from him and press myself into him. He follows my lead, pressing his chest into my back, but making sure that his hips are not pressed up against my lower half. For that I love him. The respect he has for me and how I feel matters more to him than what he wants.

After we're settled, his right arm is thrown over my body, protecting me in his embrace. His left arm is under my head, being used as my pillow. His face, buried in my hair. I hear him whisper the word he said on the train during the victory tour.

"Always."